Fear and Solace
by Stellar Eclipse
Summary: He swore he would never lose anyone ever again. He swore he would never let himself get close enough to even chance that happening. But it's happened anyway, and this is his reward. This is his hell. CLC for the Strifehart kink meme.


_For the Strifehart Kink Meme. Prompt: Comfort after a nightmare._

_Disclaimer: dood, _fan_fiction. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and the characters and universes therein are the property of Disney and Square Enix. I receive no remuneration for this work; it is a parody and as such utilizes the Fair Use clause of the Copyright Act._

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The first thing Cloud sees when he opens his eyes is Leon, broken and bloody and still, lying on the ground at Sephiroth's feet. Scattered all around the fallen angel and his victim are the lifeless corpses of all of his other friends, and disbelief and fear like nothing Cloud has ever felt flood through his entire body like quicksilver, settling heavily in the hollow pit of his stomach and setting his nerves on fire. The only thing that keeps him from throwing up at the gruesome sight is pure, overwhelming rage.

"Have I taken away that which you cherished most, Cloud?" Sephiroth drawls, smoothly extending the shining, bloody length of Masamune towards Cloud in a prideful display. Taunting him. Mocking him.

"Bastard!" Cloud snarls. He lunges at his arch-nemesis, but the Buster is strangely cold and heavy in his grip, his muscles stiff and lagging, and his first attempt is easily deflected by the graceful singing arch of Sephiroth's blade. As its length glides through the air near him, flecks of still-warm blood fly from its steely surface to land on Cloud's face. _Leon's_ blood.

He swore he would never lose anyone ever again. He swore he would never let himself get close enough to even _chance_ that happening.

But it's happened anyway, and this is his reward. This is his hell.

He cries out in pain and frustration and fury and strikes out again, and again he is foiled when Sephiroth leaps gracefully into the air, avoiding him far too easily. Dark feathers flutter to the ground in his wake, and Cloud immediately gives chase, his rage blinding him and fogging his clearer instincts.

His third strike is evaded just as effortlessly as the first two, and he cries out in another kind of pain altogether as he is abruptly run through by the lightning-quick retaliation of Sephiroth's sword, once for each of his failed attacks as if it's a punishment, more mockery. Blood spurts thickly from his body from strangely familiar wounds, and he falls hard to his knees, cracking the earth beneath him, and then to the ground completely, coughing up wetness and clutching weakly at his stomach and at the hilt of his sword. _Zack's_ sword.

He lifts his head and sees once again the mutilated bodies of everyone he cares for, and this time he can't hold back the blood-tainted bile that rises in his throat. His friends are dead. His family is dead. His lover is dead. They're all dead at this man's hands, because of _him_, and he isn't even strong enough to avenge them.

"Useless puppet." The accusatory words verbalize the sentiment in Cloud's head as Sephiroth touches down elegantly on the ground in front of him, the fall of his silver hair haloed by the sharp glare of the sun behind him. "Open your eyes, Cloud..."

"No," Cloud growls brokenly through clenched teeth, glaring up at him.

"You cannot resist me."

At Sephiroth's harsh, undoubting words, the air all around them goes dark, thick and muted and stifling, as if someone has extinguished the sun completely. It's disorienting, and before Cloud can draw another ragged breath to deny his nemesis's claim, two impossibly strong, muscular arms wind tight around him from behind and drag him to his feet, trapping him against a tall, hard body. Sephiroth's vindictive chuckle echoes in his ears, and he kicks out and tries to lunge away, every fiber in his being screaming at him to spin around and bring his sword down on his enemy and finish this once and for all, but the grip is relentless and will not let him go.

"Open your eyes, Cloud."

"No! I won't let you—"

"_Cloud, open your eyes_."

The command is more urgent this time, and suddenly Cloud is struggling away from arms that aren't Sephiroth's, struggling to tear open eyes that he didn't even realize were literally closed. It's still dark when he finally succeeds, but it's a different kind of darkness, dim with the silvery glow of the moon, and his lungs pull in frantic gasps of air that's thin and familiar and cool and _home_.

He's lying down, on his own bed, and Leon's there behind him. It's Leon's arms around him, not Sephiroth's. It was _Leon's_ voice that roused him from his imaginary hell.

Cloud cranes his neck to stare wide-eyed at his lover, his heart tight and aching where it sticks in his throat. Leon's brow is deeply furrowed with concern, crinkling the scar where it slants between his eyes, shining silver-blue in that same pale glow. Cloud has never seen such a welcome sight in his life.

"Are you okay?" Leon asks him, his tone softer now that he has Cloud's full awareness focused on him.

Cloud shudders and pulls in a breath in the shape of the other man's name, twisting within the constraints of his arms. He pushes him back against the mattress and bends to kiss him fiercely, breathlessly, seeking solace and reassurance in the fervent meshing of lips, of tongues. He receives all of that and more as Leon returns the kiss, strong and soothing against Cloud's shaking desperation, and those two muscular arms around him only hold on tighter.

"He had you," Cloud whispers hoarsely, breaking away just enough to push the words off of his tongue. "You, the others—_everybody_."

Leon's brow tightens again, and he sweeps his hand up under Cloud's bangs, brushing them out of his eyes and stroking his temple with his thumb in a comforting gesture. Cloud immediately presses his face into the heat of his palm, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Don't let go," he pleads quietly.

"I never will," Leon replies, just as quietly. He pulls Cloud down into another kiss, tempered and deep, and he doesn't let him back up until the hysteria has passed, until Cloud is breathless with relief and passion instead of restless agitation. And even then, he doesn't release him completely; he rolls him over and makes love to him, slowly, thoroughly, as if needing to provide further proof that he means what he says—that he really never will let go.

Dawn is well on its way by the time they fall back to the sheets. Leon kisses him softly one last time, eyes thoughtful on him, and then he rises from the bed.

"Come with me," he says simply, pulling Cloud to his feet.

Cloud is confused, and he's curious. They clean up and dress and don their weapons in silence, and he follows as Leon leads him out of their house and through the slumbering borough. When they turn left after descending the recently repaired steps just past the bailey, Cloud realizes where they're going, and he's quietly thankful for Leon's intuition in knowing what he needs, just like he always does.

The sun is just beginning to crest over the distant mountains by the time they arrive in the Dark Depths, and its light slowly warms the frozen air and sets hundreds of silvery metal fragments to sparkle on the hard blue earth in front of them.

Sephiroth's grave. Or at least what remained of his sword after he'd evanesced.

Leon doesn't say anything as Cloud sinks to his knees at the edge of the scattered, glittering remnants. He stands beside him as if it's where he's always meant to be, and he places one warm, gloved hand on his shoulder and squeezes, just once.

It's enough.


End file.
